


total block

by Clown_Teeth



Category: Slipknot (Band), Stone Sour (Band)
Genre: 4, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hair, Hands, Iowa, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, No Smut, RPF, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: A soft knock sounded at the door, and you almost jumped out of your skin. Maybe horror movies weren't the best choice for the night. You took a breath, steadying yourself, before standing and walking to the door. Another knock followed, almost impatient, and you swung the door open.It was James, and he looked surprised at the door suddenly opening. He cleared his throat awkwardly, giving you a shy smile. His hair was falling into his face, and you fought back the instinct to lean up and push it behind his ear. You gave him a warm smile, dropping your hand from the doorknob."What's up?" you asked quietly, peeking behind him into the dark hall.It was quiet, everyone was asleep. You honestly hadn't expected James to be up either."Uh," he cleared his throat again, not quite making eye contact with you. "Can't sleep, just wanted to see what you were up to."
Relationships: Jim Root/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	total block

The room was dark, only lit by a small TV screen, the blue light bouncing off the walls and casting shadows. Your eyes darted back and forth from the screen to the notebook in your hands. Your mind was wandering, unable to focus. You were trying your hardest to push past your block, desperately seeking some form of inspiration.

You sighed in frustration, closing the notebook for what felt like the fifteenth time that night. You kept circling through the same actions; watch the movie, open your notebook, stare at the black page, close the notebook, watch the movie. Lather, rinse, repeat. You reached up to rub your temples, closing your eyes and letting out a frustrated groan.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and you almost jumped out of your skin. Maybe horror movies weren't the best choice for the night. You took a breath, steadying yourself, before standing and walking to the door. Another knock followed, almost impatient, and you swung the door open.

It was James, and he looked surprised at the door suddenly opening. He cleared his throat awkwardly, giving you a shy smile. His hair was falling into his face, and you fought back the instinct to lean up and push it behind his ear. You gave him a warm smile, dropping your hand from the doorknob.

"What's up?" you asked quietly, peeking behind him into the dark hall.

It was quiet, everyone was asleep. You honestly hadn't expected James to be up either.

"Uh," he cleared his throat again, not quite making eye contact with you. "Can't sleep, just wanted to see what you were up to."

He spoke a tad too fast, like he was unsure of himself. Out of everyone in the band, you probably spoke to James the least, except for Craig, of course. But he was always sweet, and polite. He always got quiet when you entered the room, still shy as ever around you.

You opened the door a bit wider, taking a step back to allow room for him to come in if he wanted. "Yeah, I can't sleep either," you answered, chuckling softly. "I've been on a horror movie binge for the last few hours now."

Jim smiled, taking a hesitant step into the room, suddenly unsure of being in a room alone with you. He didn't feel as if he made the best company at times, he was usually reserved and didn't speak out, and he was still unsure of how to go about having a conversation with you. He wasn't sure you two had similar interests, and was worried he wouldn't make good conversation.

You shut the door behind him, turning and moving to sit in your previous spot on the couch, the room suddenly colder without a pillow and blanket next to you. You tossed your notebook onto the small end table beside you, giving up on getting any writing done at this point. You patted the spot beside you, inviting Jim to sit. He sat next to you slowly, his movements still hesitant and unsure.

You couldn't hide your smile at his shy nature, and you looked up at him expectantly. Even sitting next to him, you had to strain your neck to look at him. "You like horror movies?" you asked him, gesturing to the screen.

His eyes followed your hand, and he watched the screen for a moment, registering which movie was playing. "Is this _The Shining_? I like it, yeah," he answered, settling into his seat.

"What were you writing?" he asked, nodding his head toward the notebook.

"Oh, um," you weren't expecting him to ask you about it. "Just trying to figure out some song lyrics. Nothing serious."

He held out his hand, giving you a small smile. "Can I see?"

You felt your face get hot, suddenly embarrassed. You slowly grabbed your notebook off the table, opening it. You flipped through a few pages, trying to settle on something to show him. "Uh, yeah," you answered shyly, keeping your eyes on your notebook. "Let me find one that I don't hate."

You laughed at your own expense, still flipping through pages. All of them seemed too personal, too cheesy, too stupid; there's no way he'd want to see any of these. You knew if you thought too hard about it, you'd never show him your writing, so you eventually shoved the notebook into his hands, not bothering to look at what was on the page.

"Here, take it, before I pussy out," you told him, and he laughed.

It was a real, genuine laugh, deep in his chest, and your heart ached at the sound. It was too sweet, you felt like you were sitting next to your highschool crush in math class. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, holding yourself, as he read your writing.

You chewed on your lip anxiously, his gaze focused. You watched his eyes scan the page, your stomach turning in knots. You were anxious, worried he wouldn't like it. After a few moments, James looked back up at you, his expression unreadable.

"Do you mind if I make some edits?" he asked, his voice soft.

You swallowed nervously, nodding, and handed him a pen. He hummed out a 'thanks', and turned his attention back to the notebook. He pulled the cap off the pen with his teeth, holding the cap between them while he made his edits, scribbling small notes on the corners of the page. He seemed so focused, so invested in what you wrote.

He eventually handed the notebook back to you, leaning over to read over your shoulder.

"So-" he started, putting the cap back on the pen and using the pen to point at his notes. "I think this would sound better if you moved this here, but that's just my thoughts, you don't have to listen to it."

You smiled, your gaze flickering up to him. Your eyes met for a second, and he gave you a small smile. Your shoulders were brushing around each other, and you were suddenly self-conscious.

You blushed, lowering your gaze back to the words on the page. You hoped the darkness of the room would hide your reddening cheeks. "It's really good, though," he continued, "You're really talented."

You blushed hard, shutting your notebook and setting it to the side. That was definitely enough of that. You turned back to James, praying he couldn't see your red face. You smiled, resting your hands in your lap. "Thanks," you eventually responded, unsure of what else to say.

"I mean it," he pressed on.

You looked back down at your lap, and he watched you, his eyes staying trained on you. You'd practically forgotten about the movie by now. You wrung your hands, toying with your fingers, feeling shy.

James stayed quiet, lowering his gaze to his own lap. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and he hoped he hadn't pushed too far. The silence felt heavy, tense. You cleared your throat, trying to push the moment behind you.

"So… why couldn't you sleep?" you finally settled on, running your clammy palms down the front of your pants.

Jim shrugged, relaxing. You didn't seem to be upset, and you certainly weren't asking him to leave, so that was something. "Too much on my mind, I think," he answered, wringing his own hands in his lap.

You watched him, the tendons in his hands straining and moving as he tensed his fingers. His nails were short, blunt, and painted black. The nail polish was chipping, and you could see the dirt underneath his fingernails. You could see the little cracks running through the calluses on his fingers, worn from night after night of shows.

"What were you thinking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper now, your eyes still locked on his hands.

"Hm," he sighed, flexing his fingers, interlocking his hands together. "A few things. Our next show, if anyone else was up… you."

You shuddered slightly, daring to look up at him. He was hiding behind his hair, not looking at you. God, he was so shy it made it feel like your heart was being wrung out like a wet rag. His hair was messy, unbrushed; a mop of curly brown hair, blond streaks falling into his eyes. It looked soft, you wanted to run your fingers through it.

"Me?" you questioned, moving closer to him.

Your sides were pressed together, from your thighs to your shoulders. He slowly turned to face you, his eyes quickly darting away from yours. You watched his throat move as he swallowed, and he liked his lips nervously.

"Y-Yeah. You."

You sighed, letting your head fall forward, your forehead now resting against his shoulder. He hummed, shifting, his arm sliding around your back. You moved forward, your cheek on his shoulder now, your nose pressed against his neck. He let out a soft sigh, his body warm against yours.

You only moved closer, moving your legs to rest them across his lap, and he only shifted to accommodate you even more, his free hand resting on your knee. It was warm and comfortable, and you almost wanted to drift to sleep.

You reached up, pushing your fingers into his hair, soft curls tangling around your fingers. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. You pushed his hair out of his face, your eyes locked on him. His eyes were closed, a content look on his face. You could see the stubble on his cheeks, spreading down onto his neck. You couldn't resist the urge to place a soft kiss on the side of his neck, reveling in the soft sigh he let out.

You kissed his neck again, keeping your movements slow and gentle, and he let out a soft hum of approval. He tilted his head down, and you moved to meet him, your lips connecting. His lips were soft, unsure, moving slowly against yours. You smiled against his lips, your fingers tightening in his hair.

His hands reached up to hold your face, and you felt swallowed in his grasp. His large hands practically covered your entire face, his finger splayed out across your cheeks, holding you close. Your eyes were closed, the smell of cigarettes, soap, and cologne overwhelming you. He even smelled good.

You shifted closer, your other hand coming up to caress his cheek, trying to pull him closer. He sighed against your lips, kissing you more intently, leaning into your touches. "James…" you whispered, practically in his lap at this point.

He hummed, continuing to kiss you, your name dripping from his lips. You loved the way it sounded when he said it. All too soon he was pulling away from you, gently moving you off his lap.

You huffed, falling back in your seat, your eyes on him. "It's late," he murmured, his hands still on your face. "Not tonight."

You sighed, turning to kiss his palm. "Mmm… fine," you muttered, your lips still pressed against his skin.

Jim sighed, pulling his hands away from you, leaning back in his own seat. "If it's any consolation," he said, pushing his hair back. "It's not like I want to stop either."

You smiled ruefully, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You owe me."

He laughed, and the sound made your heart beat faster.

"Don't worry, I won't make you wait."

**Author's Note:**

> heyo! couldn't get this out of my head, so here's a short Jim one-shot. this is set in 2001, on the tour bus


End file.
